Nurse Franklin Suspects
by lazyboo
Summary: Patsy can't stand keeping their secret from Trixie any longer.
There were only so many speculative glances that Nurse Mount could endure without her heart failing her. The secrecy was eating away at Patsy, the need to hide, to conceal. The covert looks and furtive exchanges were painfully dissatisfying, every suppressed emotion a torment.

Patsy was thankful, so very thankful, that Delia was safe. That she was back in London. That she was home. Her gratitude to Sister Julienne knew no bounds for offering Delia a place to live in London. For giving them a life line. For making it so easy, in the end.

But that very gratitude put Patsy in rather an awkward position. She desperately wanted to spend more time with Delia. Wanted it with every fibre of her being. To hold her hand. To kiss that cheeky smile. To simply acknowledge that Delia was nothing short of the very best part of her life. And it was impossible to do so.

Patsy was well aware that there were times when her feelings for the Welsh nurse had shone through. Her iron clad facade, developed all those years ago through boarding school and nursing school and the London, had fractured irrevocably when Delia had entered her life. There were times when it was completely impossible for her to suppress the smile that burst out of her every time that Delia was near.

And it worried her now, the thought that she was giving the game away. That she was putting them in danger with her inability to hide her love for Delia.

Of course, it didn't help that Delia delighted in teasing her. That she relished every opportunity to make Patsy squirm. With adoration. With abject terror. With monumental desire. With a love so great she willingly drowned in it.

Sometimes it was very nearly too much to bear.

And sometimes, when Patsy felt like her heart was close to bursting with everything she was trying to contain, she'd catch a look on Trixie's face. Eyebrow cocked, blonde head tilted to the side. Contemplative.

That was as sobering as a sudden icy downpour.

It was difficult. So hard to not share everything with Trixie. Trixie was the closest she'd ever had to a best friend. The closest she'd been to anybody outside of Delia. Trixie was the one who winkled out her secrets and knew more about Patsy than anyone had before.

And Trixie had been so happy to welcome Delia to Nonnatus House. To include her in their chats and schemes and escapades. Hadn't resented the fact that Patsy now spent more time with Delia. Hadn't even questioned it.

That made sense now. Since Trixie had told them about Alcoholics Anonymous. Patsy couldn't believe she hadn't noticed. Chastised herself for being so self absorbed that she didn't see the change. Or so absorbed in Delia, more to the point. Here was her friend going through this ordeal, facing these demons about herself, and Pasty was so drunk on love that it didn't occur to her. She was shamefaced just thinking about it. Observing Trixie now, Patsy could see the struggle etched almost imperceptibly into fine features. See the fleeting sadness before it was masked behind each jaunty grin.

Patsy wished more than anything that there was something she could do to ameliorate that for Trixie, that there was something she could do to take away the blonde's pain. And so she decided that she would share their secret with Trixie. At the very least she could let Trixie into her confidence, to let Trixie know that she was trusted. And loved.

It terrified her. She did trust Trixie. Knew that the blonde was was outspokenly progressive and not shy of boldly proclaiming her opinion when she thought anyone was being narrowminded. But it was one thing to have modern point of view when it came to other people, and quite another when it pertained to someone close to you. Someone who shared a room with you.

So it was with great trepidation one evening, when Delia was on a night shift at the London and Barbara was out on a delivery, that Patsy sat down on her bed. Waited for Trixie to notice her fidgeting nervously and put down the latest edition of Vogue.

"My goodness Patsy, whatever is the matter? You're quite scaring me sitting there so meaningfully."

The redhead swallowed. Took a determined breath. "Trixie, there's something I want to tell you." And her voice almost didn't crack under the strain.

Trixie sat up at that, swung her legs over the side of bed and faced Patsy fully. Her cigarette abandoned on the bedside table. "What is it?" Slightly panicked. "You're not sick are you?" A pause. "You're not leaving are you?"

"No no, nothing like that." Hands raised placatingly. "It's just... This is hard for me to talk about."

"Oh for pity's sake Patsy. Just tell me!"

"I... Delia... Delia and I..." At that she watched astonished as the blonde's demeanour changed. Relaxed.

"Go on." Gently encouraging.

"Delia and I, we're..." A breath. "We're in love. We have been for a long time."

A pleased smile broke out across Trixie's face. "Well, is that all? I thought for sure you were going to tell me something horribly tragic."

"Well, isn't it?"

"Of course not! I must say, I've suspected for a long time." Trixie bounced off the bed, came to sit next to Patsy. Placed a small hand on the tall woman's arm. "I'm so glad you've finally told me."

Patsy was so shocked - so relieved - she felt quite light-headed. Had to pause for a moment to compose herself before facing Trixie. Looked right into smiling blue eyes to confirm the truth. "You don't... hate me for it?"

"Nonsense. I must admit, I'm the tiniest bit hurt that you didn't confide in me before." A grin alleviated the sting of that. "But I'm so pleased you have now!"

Patsy didn't know quite what to say to that. Simply stared gratefully at Trixie until the blonde sighed. Drew the taller woman into a tight hug.

"Dear Patsy, were you truly that worried?"

A nod. "I've seen what happens to other... people like us."

"I did start to suspect when I saw how much you took that business with Mr Amos so much to heart. You know it's not the same for women as it is for men? And times are certainly changing. It's 1960 for goodness sake."

"I know. I know all that. But it's rather hard. Living your whole life knowing that you're unnatural." A breath. "That people will never accept you for who you happen to fall in love with."

"Rubbish. There's nothing unnatural about you. You're just... unique."

She couldn't help it then. Felt the sting of tears as her vision blurred, could barely distinguish Trixie's sympathetic expression.

"Oh sweetie..."

Patsy fought with herself for long moments, fiercely tamped down the sobs until she was breathing again. Shuddering, but back in control.

"Please stop being so nice about it Trixie. I feel so horrible that I didn't notice what you were going though recently. Months and months at Alcoholics Anonymous and I never suspected a thing. What kind of friend am I for god's sake?"

"That's not your fault Patsy Mount." Trixie sighed. "Let's just say, we've both been concealing things." A pause. "I'm very glad it's all out in the open now though."

They sat in companionable silence for a long stretch. Then Trixie turned to her, a sly smile narrowing blue eyes and making her look positively naughty.

"Patsy, you dark horse. Moving your girlfriend in right under the nun's very noses."

"Trixie." Admonishing.

"You know, I'm happy to be a look out..."

"Trixie!"

"What? I'm only trying to help."

Trixie's giggles punctuated the redhead's exasperated sigh.

It wouldn't be the last time.


End file.
